Cloud Dust: RD-1 (R-D #1)(36)

Getting the third man was a fluke—he'd stumbled and lost his footing. It was easy to take him after that. The incident was handled discreetly, with locals guarding the area until vans arrived to remove the prisoner and the bodies.

Forensics was working on the bodies while the prisoner sat in an interrogation room. I hoped he wouldn't end up like the pilot—dead in an apparent suicide. What I'd discussed two hours earlier with the President and General Safer was that I was being followed, too, so my wife had been sent out of town to visit her mother.

Most of us scheduled to ride in that helicopter were targeted. What we didn't know was why. I suspected the Russians were after Rafe, but how had they learned of his existence, or what he even looked like now?

Corinne? How could anyone know about Corinne? She was only now showing her talents, after all. It led me to believe that information was leaking from the Mansion, but how, and through whom?

"Colonel?" James was back.

"James?"

"I want to do anything I can to find out who's doing this."

"Doing what?"

"Releasing information on Cori and Rafe."

"Add me to that list," I said. "They're following me, too."

"What about Dalton? He was supposed to be on that chopper."

"No idea," I shrugged. "But it bears a closer look."

*

Corinne

"I was hoping we'd have time to do lunch while we were out," Rafe said, opening the fridge and searching for the package of sliced roast beef.

"Lunch out may not be on the itinerary anytime soon," I said.

"Want a sandwich?" he asked, setting the roast beef, mayonnaise and a tomato on the island.

"Maybe half a sandwich. More than that might make me sick. I feel queasy."

"Then I'll make half a sandwich for you."

Ilya, I thought at him, we have to start paying attention to the ones who refuse to show me their face.

"Want lettuce, too?"

"Yeah."

*

Ilya

Things were quiet around the Mansion for the rest of the day and into the following morning, when Nick and Maye, who were scheduled to go with the new Vice President to the former Vice President's funeral, went out to buy clothing.

Nick was hit in the arm with a bullet, while Maye barely escaped injury. We had a meeting Sunday night, after Nick was released by the medical unit upstairs. Corinne's and my shared kitchen was the venue of choice.

"It appears that the entire Program is targeted, and not just parts of it," General Safer announced. I wondered that he was here instead of Cutter for this meeting, but didn't comment. It was on my list of things to inquire discreetly about, however.

Cutter was furious that the President hadn't moved him into the VP's slot, and I imagined that we had Corinne to thank for that. Cutter would have been a huge mistake in that position, and would likely hurt Amelia Sanders' bid for reelection the following year. I didn't want to speculate on what might happen if the President was killed or incapacitated with Cutter in the Vice President's position. That could become extremely dangerous.

I wasn't about to ask Dalton about any of this—he attended the meeting reluctantly and sat at the table next to Kevin, with little expression on his face as he listened to Safer with the rest of us.

I figured that Corinne would let August know if anyone in our kitchen was involved in the leak of information, so I wasn't overly concerned at the moment. The other thing I surmised was that all cameras and listening devices in the kitchen had been blocked or deactivated temporarily, so the meeting was as private as any meeting inside the Mansion could be.

"Both our attackers are dead," Maye said. "Is there anything new on their identification?"

"We have nothing so far, and that concerns me," Safer acknowledged. "How can five unidentifiable gunmen show up so quickly? They carried no ID, no credit cards or anything else that might help, and their fingerprints aren't in any database."

"Has the one in custody talked, yet?" Nick asked.

"No. Hasn't spoken a word, as far as I know. Wrote a note, asking for an attorney."

"So he's taking the fifth to the extreme?" August asked.

"Looks that way."

"Did you take his belt away?" Corinne asked.

James snorted at Corinne's question.

"Yes. He no longer has anything left to hang himself, unless he gets creative with his clothing."

"Are we still set to attend the funeral next week with the President and Vice President?"

"Yes," Safer confirmed. "I don't believe I need to tell you how vital it is that both come away safely."

"You don't have to tell me that," Maye huffed. "Will there be plenty of protection surrounding the chapel?"

"We've increased it as of today," Safer said. "Every man checked out beforehand, and Secret Service is guarding all doors."

"You don't think it's only the Program being targeted, do you?" August observed.

"Not after the Vice President's assassination, no," Safer said. "We had no rumblings on that one. We've been digging deeper and listening more carefully since then."

That meant the NSA and every other agency was on high alert. So far, the Vice President had been assassinated, the British Prime Minister and the U.S. Secretary of State targeted, and possibly other officials in foreign countries. That's what the meeting at Camp David was about—potential terrorist attacks in multiple countries.